AAOOOSC! Wheatie Bits!

The second period commences with yet another goal by the team bearing red, white, and blue.

From the bench, Kailer flies up to his blades, pumping his gloved fists and stick in the air. “YES, YES, YES!!! Three to two! We see, we take, we CONQUER!” He holds his gloved fist out to fist-bump his passing teammates. “Atta, boys!”

“USA, USA!” Jake chants back happily as he gives fist-bumps to the same teammates.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the glass, the Canadian bench is exhibiting the opposite mood.

“I hate this,” Brett spits out, scowling at the ice. “I hate this score. I hate this game. I hate it.”

“We still got time,” Kale points out in a comforting tone. “We got more than half the game to come back. It’s just by one point.”

Brett whirls around to him with shock. “They scored right away! This is—” He throws his head back in frustration. “UGH!” He lands back in his slouching position and continues fuming.

“Keep calm—” Kale pats his padded shoulder with his gloved hand. “—we got this.”

“Yeah, Hartsy better get it too.” Brett throws a glare at the Canadian net.

Carter is sweeping the blade of his stick across the crease, nonchalantly swiping the ice chunks away from it.

The game commences and a few minutes later, Canada gets a penalty.

The lines change and Brett, who was on the ice, climbs back in. “Let’s go for the penalty kill,” he remarks with resolve.

Kale stands up as the forward sits down. “Even better— short-handed goal.” He looks down at him. “I’m gonna see if I can get one.”

Brett peers up at him with pleading in his eyes. “Please do.”

Kale then slips over the boards and skates down to the face-off circle.

Brett silently watches the game, clutching onto his stick vertically in front of him with two hands. He has steady eyes on the action, anticipating a goal or no goal for the Americans.

Kale climbs back into the bench and settles next to him. “I got a shot on goal.”

Brett turns to him. “Better than nothing. Not a point though.”

“Well, let’s see you score then.” He nods at him. “You haven’t even gotten a shot on goal. I already have two.”

Brett gives him an arrogant smirk. “Watch me.” With that, he stands up and launches over the boards and onto the ice.

From the American bench, Jake’s eyes light up at the sight of Brett speeding across the ice.

“Brett!” he shouts at him.

Brett continues chasing after the runaway puck.

Jake furrows his eyebrows in confusion at his response. “Can Brett hear me?” He begins rising to his blades. “I gotta say hi to him and—”

“No!” A hand grabs Jake’s arm and leads him back to his stool.

Jake whirls to his left in surprise, spotting Kailer with his hand on his arm.

“Sit still for once, please!” the small skater commands sharply. “You’re going to give us a penalty for too many men on the ice!”

Jake places his free hand on his chest. “But I’m a goalie.”

Kailer lets out an irritated groan and lifts his eyes up at him. “Of course you are.”

From the ice, Brett glides away from the action and climbs over the boards and in the Canadian bench.

Kale turns to him. “Well, how did it go?”

Brett shoots him a dark expression. “You guess, smart guy.”

Kale leans away and chuckles at his response as Brett stares ahead in silent enragement.

On the other side of the glass, Jake spots Brett angrily gazing at the ice.

“Why isn’t Brett happy?” he whimpers with sad eyes. “It’s making me really sad!” He leans over the boards and waves at him with a comforting grin. “Brett! Brett!”

“Oettinger!” Kailer instantly tugs him away from the boards. “They’re losing, of course they’re not happy.”

Jake sits back on his stool whirls to him with hands toward his bestie. “Then they should be winning!”
The small skater shoots him an unamused expression. “Then that’d mean WE’D be losing.”

“Oh no—” Jake slaps his hands on his cheeks. “—I don’t wanna be losing!”
Kailer cocks a fine eyebrow at him. “You’re torn.”

“I’m Jake!”

Kailer shakes his head at his naïvety.

Jake then gasps with lit-up eyes as an idea crosses his mind. “We should win and they should win and then we can all win and be happy!” He throws his hands in the air with a bright grin.

Kailer narrows his eyes at him. “That’s not how it works…”

The goalie then spins back around and gazes at the Canadian bench through the glass. “I’m going to go to Brett to cheer him up—”

“No!” Kailer grabs his arm and spins him back around to face him. “Don’t go into the enemy’s bunkers! Here.” He swipes a whiteboard displaying the scribbled plays from the glass behind him and shoves it at him. “Read this.”

Jake silently takes the whiteboard and peers down at it in an intrigued manner.

“Now, excuse me,” Kailer continues on, “I have a goal to score.” With that, he stands up, hops over the boards, and zips down the ice.

Jake continues scrutinizing the clipboard.

On the ice, Dylan Samberg passes it to Adam Fox, who feeds it to Kailer for the goal!

“NOOO!!!” Brett hollers from the bench.

Kale stares out the celebrating Americans in shock. “Oh no…”

On the crease, Carter slowly gets up from his butterfly position. He takes a deep breath in an attempt to suppress his emotions.

On the other hand, Kailer is gliding by the celebrating American bench, receiving fist-bumps from his teammates. “And that is how you do it, boys!”

Jake fist-bumps with Kailer. “Yay, Yamma Mamma!” He then catches sight of Brett dejectedly staring out at the ice. His face falls, including his fist. “Aw, Brett…”

“Four to two,” Brett bitterly remarks. “Wonderful.”

Kale whirls to him. “We still got the whole third period!”

The door of the boards by Brett then opens up. The backup goalie of Canada, Dylan Wells, slips out onto the ice and glides away to the crease.

A few moments later, Carter slips through the small opening, closes the door behind him, and trudges to the unoccupied stall by the benches and settles on it.

Brett peers at him and gives him a dry nod. “‘Sup, Hartsy.”

Carter removes his gloves with harsh movements. “I let everyone down.” He pulls his helmet from his head, revealing his sadden expression.

Kale takes pity on his incompetence with a concerned look. “Hey, remember what Brett said: We’re a team, so we rise and fall together.” He gestures toward himself by placing his gloved hand on his chest. “It’s also my fault for not defending well and Brett’s fault for not scoring…” He drops his gloved hand and eyes the forward.

“It’s ALL our fault,” Brett wraps up bluntly.

Carter dips his head, wallowing in his failure. “But if I just didn’t let those pucks in…”

“If only I shot those pucks out, if only Brett would put those pucks in, we all made errors,” Kale tells him comfortingly. “But it’s fine. You got your big break now.”

A grin cracks on Brett’s face as he stares ahead at the ice. The other two turn to see what is giving him such glee.

They watch as Kailer is being guided by a referee to the penalty box.

Kale turns to the goalie. “See, even Doc’s going into the box.” He then stands up and hops onto the ice.

“Good.” Brett lets out an irritated groan. “All those Americans should go into the box.”

Carter lets out a hesitant chuckle. “I’d love to see that.”

As Kailer is nearing the penalty box, he peers up at the referee. “I send my apologies to the Canadian I high-sticked. I did not intend to high-stick him.” He then steps into the opened penalty box and sits down with a huff.

“I do deserve it, that was not nice of me doing that.”

With the power play in Canada’s favour, Canada gets a goal!

“And I guess I deserved that too,” Kailer finishes off. He then stands up and hobbles out from the box and back onto the ice.

Brett flies up to his blades, becoming utterly enlivened again. “YES!!! WE ARE BACK ON TRACK, BABY!” He fist-bumps his teammates on the ice from the bench.

“Great job, boys!” Kale calls out after them. He then climbs back into the boards and sits next to the forward.

Kale nudges with an open grin. “See, we can totally win this game!”

“Yes yes yes!” Filled with vigour, Brett blasts back out onto the ice.

Carter, on the other hand, wistfully stares up at the digital scoreboard. “Please, let us win.”

“We got this,” Kale tells him in a reassuring tone. “Four to three. Just two more goals for the lead, really simple.”

Notes

E.8 "The Game of Juniors"
Part 6/8
Episode 8/10